


All In Good Time

by BillieShears



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: Bennet Family Shenanigans, Darcy Family Shenanigans, F/M, Pemberley arc, Post Pemberley Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-27
Updated: 2013-02-27
Packaged: 2017-12-03 18:31:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/701326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BillieShears/pseuds/BillieShears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He turns to look at her in a way that, six months ago, might have unnerved her. It’s the kind of look that she would have consulted Charlotte about, that she would’ve written and performed costume theatre about, that would’ve sent her into a tailspin. It still sends her into a tailspin, she thinks, the way that it makes her heart leap into her throat and her stomach explode into a frenzy of butterflies. </p><p>(In which they keep in touch after Pemberley.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	All In Good Time

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to write a ten page paper on hedonism. I wrote a ten page LBD fanfic instead. That's senior year of college for you.
> 
> Starts with Lizzie's departure from Pemberley, swan dives pretty spectacularly away from cannon beyond that.

X

Darcy is waiting for her when the car arrives. She practically runs out of Pemberley, bags tossed carelessly over her shoulder and heels sinking into the soft earth. She halts suddenly when she sees Darcy standing next to the car, his face somber.

“The rest of your belongings will be shipped to you,” He tells her, reaching for her bags and loading them into the trunk, “and I’ve given your temporary address to one of my assistants. They’ll go by three times a day to let the animals out and take care of any other tasks you were responsible for.”

Lizzie can’t help it: she hugs him. He is stiff, for a moment, then she feels warm arms envelope her.

“Thank you,” She pulls away, her voice catching.

“Everything will be alright,” He tells her.

She doesn’t really believe him, but she gives him a sad sort of smile anyway.

“This is Ralph,” He gestures to the man in the driver’s seat, “He’s my best driver. He’ll take you to the airport. Your ticket has been compensated.”

“You didn’t have to –”

“I would have done it for any one of my employees, were they in this situation,” He holds up a hand to stop her, “it’s the least I can do.” Then he bends to open the car door for her.

It’s over before he really knows what’s happening: she springs up on her toes and presses her lips to his, quick and nervous.

“Thank you,” She says again, and slips into the car.

X

Lizzie felt helpless. There was nothing to be done about the video but wait, and patience had never been one of her strong suits. Lydia was quiet, and spent most of her time in her room. Jane made a lot of tea and cookies. Mr. Bennet made a lot of phones calls and sighed a lot. Mrs. Bennet, bless her, kept a stiff upper lip about the whole thing.

“ _I_ , for one, am confident that we have nothing to worry about!” She assures her family each night at dinner, “Human decency will prevail, just you wait and see!”

“ _Really,_ mom?” Lizzie hisses through gritted teeth, as Lydia rips herself from the table and darts from the room with tears in her eyes. Jane clucks her tongue disapprovingly and follows Lydia, turning the burner on to heat water for more tea on her way upstairs.

“I don’t think that’s helping, dear,” Mr. Bennet says, sighing deeply.

“Of course, I’d forgotten,” Mrs. Bennet says indignantly, snatching Lydia’s plate and whisking it off to the kitchen, “This whole debacle is _my_ fault.”

Lizzie’s bottom lip trembles and she locks eyes with her dad, who shakes his head sadly. She leans against his shoulder, he slips his arm around her, and they stay like that until the whistle of the kettle beckons them to part.

X

Lizzie lies in bed, but she cannot sleep. Every time she closes her eyes, she thinks about where she was two weeks ago. She thinks of karaoke with Gigi, of thai food with Fitz and Brandon, of touring San Francisco with the Darcy’s. She thinks of Darcy. Of how maybe he wasn’t the Darcy-Bot she’d pegged him for, maybe he wasn’t as snobby as she’d thought, maybe this was someone she could – someone she could call a friend. But now she’s been home for ten days and she hasn’t heard a word from him, and she’s beginning to suspect she never will again, either.

 _Oh well,_ Lizzie thinks, _what else did I expect?_ She did, after all, spend the better part of a year pushing him away. She adds it to the growing list of things she’s screwed up.

X

After another hour of tossing and turning, she reaches for her cell phone and scrolls through her contacts. She finds Gigi’s name.

 _Miss you,_ she texts. Gigi’s response comes with surprising speed, given the hour.

 _Just me?_ She asks, adding a winky-face for good measure. Lizzie smirks.

_Okay, you got me - Fitz and Brand-o, too._

_What,_ Gigi texts, _no love for any tall, DORK and handsome CEO’s?_

Lizzie thinks about texting something snarky back, but instead she settles on honesty. A little of that couldn’t hurt, she figures.

 _Yeah,_ she admits, _him, too._

X

“Gigi,” Darcy said flatly, barely glancing up from his computer screen, “I don’t understand the purpose of showing me these text messages. So Lizzie misses you. It makes sense. You got along quite well.”

“ _William_ ,” Gigi tugs at her hair, exasperated, “did you miss the part where she said she misses _you_ , too?”

“Only after prodding and –” He consults the text again, “—rather unwarranted _teasing_ from you.”

“You should call her,” She encourages, “text her, at least.”

“May I remind you that she could just as easily text or call me?” Gigi arches her brow, considering her older brother carefully. This flusters him, and his ears burn red. “What?!”

“She _kissed you_ , William. I saw it from the window!”

“You were spying?” He asks, taken aback.

“Oh, like that even surprises you!” She waves it off easily. “Think about it, William. She made the move. The ball’s in your court now.”

“She was emotionally compromised,” He argues, “she was just given devastating news about her sister. She wasn’t thinking clearly.”

“ _Or,_ ” Gigi counters, “she saw it as a _now or never_ thing.” Then she hops off of his desk and breezes out of the room like she’d never even been there, leaving Darcy alone with his thoughts.

X

Charlotte arrives the next morning, and Lizzie holds her like a lifeline.

“How did you get time off from work?” She asks, stunned, “I thought Ricky –”

“He received an in-person request from ‘ _Pemberley CEO William Darcy himself’_ to give me the week off for personal reasons,” Charlotte hooks her arm through Lizzie’s and tugs her in, “he told him it was a family emergency.”

She can’t trust herself to say anything without crying. Instead, she leans into her best friends shoulder and allows herself to be sad.

“I know you’re not ready to talk about it,” Charlotte says gently, “but when you are, we’ll figure it out together.”

X

Lizzie is curled at the edge of Lydia’s bed, her own legs overlapping with her sister’s, when her phone buzzes.

“Who is it?” Lydia asks, turning her head to face her. She can tell it isn’t one of the usual suspects – Lizzie’s never been good at masking her emotions.

“Nobody,” Lizzie’s surprise melts into a tiny smile. “Just Darcy.”

“Really?” Lydia wrinkles her nose – not in repulsion, but rather in curiosity, “what’s he saying?”

Lizzie sits up and stiffens her shoulders, reciting in her best Darcy voice: “Good morning, Lizzie. I hope your family is faring as well as can be expected. Please do not hesitate to call if you need anything. Darcy.”

Lydia giggles despite herself, and curls her knees up to her chest.

“Do you miss it?” She asks, her voice quiet and her eyes wet and bright. “I mean, would you rather be there?” Lizzie’s face falls, and she pulls her sister close.

“Oh, Lydia,” She sighs.

“You can be honest,” Lydia mutters, “it’s okay if you do.”

“Look, Lydia, Pemberley was great and all,” Lizzie concedes, “and I was really grateful for the opportunity, but there is nowhere I’d rather be than with you right now, okay? I’m not sorry I left.” Lydia squirms in her sister’s embrace, suddenly uncomfortable.

“I watched your videos,” She admits.  “I guess he’s not as bad as I thought.”

“Do you really think so?” Lizzie’s voice is a little too hopeful.

“I mean, _you_ like him,” She shrugs, “so he can’t be all bad.”

“He’s not,” Lizzie nods, “we’re… friends.”

Lydia rolls her eyes and reaches for her comforter.

“Sure,” she says. Lizzie is reaching for the door when she adds: “text him back, lame-o.”

X

They text on-and-off for the next couple of days. She smiles every time her phone buzzes. It almost makes her feel guilty, to feel this way, but Lydia doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, it provides her with a distraction from the impending countdown.

Once, Lizzie makes plans to skype with Gigi, but she ‘accidentally’ gives her Darcy’s name instead. When he answers the call they’re both surprised, but they talk for twenty minutes before business tears him away. She tries to ignore the lump in her throat when they say goodbye.

X

The night before the video is due to hit the internet, Lizzie and Jane do whatever they can to keep Lydia’s mind off of it. They rent her favorite movies, purchase her favorite snacks, and invite Mary and Charlotte over. They cover the floor in air mattresses and turn the living room into a fort, the way they used to as children. They remove all the rugs from the hallway and sweep the floors so they’re in prime sock-sliding condition. Lydia’s reaction is hard to gauge: she smiles, sort of, and thanks them. She lets them pick the movie and doesn’t even reach for the twizzlers.

“Look, I really appreciate all of this,” She says after the second movie, “But if it’s all the same to you guys, I think I’m going to sleep in my own room tonight.”

X

Just when she’s gotten settled, her phone rings, coming up as restricted. She considers not answering, but at the last minute, snatches it up.

X

Right as Jane and Charlotte have started to clean up the snacks and Lizzie and Mary are preparing to deflate the air mattresses, Lydia returns. There is a smile on her face.

“Hey,” She greets. Her face is flushed, pink and hopeful.

“Hey, you,” Jane smiles, “I thought you were headed to bed.”

“I changed my mind.” She gives a little hop, then jerks her head behind her, “You guys still up for sock slides?”

X

The next morning, the website is inexplicably gone. There’s no trace of it – no sign it had ever been there at all. Mrs. Bennet weeps with joy and hugs her daughters. Mr. Bennet smiles and drops a kiss on Lydia’s head.

“Who did it?” Jane asks, smile so wide her face is at risk of bursting, “How did this happen?”

“I dunno,” Lydia averts her gaze, “It’s just… gone. Poof.”

“Well, this calls for a _celebration!_ ” Mrs. Bennet declares, “I’m going to make meringues! Come along, Janie!”

“I just wish we knew who to thank,” Mr. Bennet says. Lizzie eyes her younger sister carefully.

“Yeah,” She says vaguely, “me too.”

X

“Hey, Lydia,” Lizzie pokes her head in later that night, “did Gigi ever get in contact with you? She texted me about getting your number a while ago, and –”

“She messaged me on facebook,” Lydia confirms, “just sort of saying if I ever wanted to talk… you know. But we haven’t texted or anything.”

“Was Gigi –” Lizzie hesitated, then took the plunge: “Was Gigi the one who took the video down?”

“No,” Lydia says, too easily. She jolts up suddenly and adds: “I mean, I don’t know. I don’t know _who_ took it down. It was just… down.” Lizzie narrows her eyes, but Lydia merely purses her lips and shrugs.

“Okay,” She surrenders, retreating from the room, “whatever you say.”

X

_Was it you?_

Gigi smirks at the text.

 _Wasn’t me…_ she replies, and adds another winky face. She nudges her older brother, offers him the phone. The pair of them are in their pajamas, sitting on Darcy’s couch, scrolling through Netflix. He glances at the phone and frowns.

“Georgiana,” He says sharply, “you are not to tell her.”

“I just don’t understand, William,” She replies emphatically, “Why can’t you own up to this nice, kind, _wonderful_ thing you did for her family? Why make Lydia keep it secret?”

“If Lizzie is ever to come around, I want it to be because her feelings have genuinely changed, not because she feels any obligation.”

“She’s _already_ come around!” Gigi protests. Just then, her phone starts to ring. She looks down at the screen: _‘Lizzie Bennet!’_

“Georgiana,” He hisses through gritted teeth; a warning.

“Hot potato!” She cries, and tosses the phone at him. Then she bolts from the room.

“Georgiana!” He calls after her. He glances down at the phone. The photo ID is a picture of the two of them during the San Francisco tour, right after they’d caught Gigi taking pictures. He sighs resolutely, and picks up the phone.

“Lizzie,” He greets, “Hello. Georgiana’s not available at the moment.”

 _“Oh,”_ She says. She sounds nervous. _“I was just calling because – well, because the website’s been taken down.”_

Gigi appears in the doorway. ‘Tell her!’, she mouths. Darcy turns away from her.

“Oh,” He replies, “Well, that’s good news.”

 _“Yeah! Yeah, it’s great news, actually.”_ She clears her throat. _“Well, I was really calling because, uh… I thought maybe Gigi had something to do with - you know, with taking it down.”_

“No,” He says slowly, carefully choosing his words, “no, I don’t believe Gigi had anything to do with that.”

 _“Oh.”_ It’s becoming the base of their conversation. _“Did, um… Did you –”_

“I’m sorry, Lizzie,” He interrupts her quickly – he has no intentions of telling her the truth, but he has no intentions of lying about it, either; and he knows he wouldn’t be able to keep it from her if she asked him flat out, “My Aunt is on the other line, and –”

 _“Of course,”_ She says, _“of course. Well, it was – it was nice talking to you, Darcy.”_

“Thank you,” He says, and immediately he cringes, “It was nice talking to you, too.”

When he hangs up, Gigi cups her face in her palms and slides to the floor in despair.

“You,” she points at him accusatorily, “need some serious assistance.”

X

“I miss him, Char,” Lizzie admits one afternoon, perched on the swing set she and her sisters played on as children.

“So tell him.” Charlotte drops onto the swing next to her and pushes off, pumping her legs as she goes. Lizzie twists in her seat.

“Not an option.”

“Why not? I mean, you already know how he feels about you. Saying you miss him couldn’t possibly hurt anything at this point.”

“How he _felt,_ ” Lizzie corrects, “Halloween was… a long time ago. He’s seen the videos. I kissed him, and he never even – he didn’t – I don’t know. We could’ve been – I mean, we’re friends now. That’s where we’re at. That’s all we’re ever going to be at.”

“You caught him off-guard. From what you told me, you didn’t even give him a chance to react.”

“He could’ve called me! He could’ve done _something_. I put it all on the line, kissing him.”

“As I recall it, _he_ put it all on the line _way before_ you did.” Charlotte drags her feet across the ground, brings her swinging to a halt, and gives Lizzie a meaningful look. “Think of what you put him through, Lizzie. He’s being cautious. Can you blame him?” Lizzie digs her toes into the earth, eyes cast downward.

“I guess not,” She concedes.

“Just tell him, Lizzie,” Charlotte says, and resumes swinging.

X

It takes a long talk with Jane and two glasses of wine with dinner for bravery, but Lizzie _does_ text him.

 _Between Netherfield and Pemberley, I was kind of getting used to having you around,_ She types out, _believe it or not, I kinda miss you._

When ten minutes goes by without a reply, she throws her phone across the room in frustration, and it lands with a thud on her bed.

“Relax, nerd,” Lydia says from the desk, feet propped up on Lizzie’s windowsill, “he’ll text you back. He’s probably just having a _meltdown_ over what you sent.” Jane laughs, and immediately brings her hand up to cover her mouth.

“Et tu, Brutus?” Lizzie asks, and Jane stifles a smile.

“It _was_ kind of funny, Lizzie.”

When her phone buzzes, Lydia snatches it from her before she can read it. She stares at the screen, then bursts into peals of laughter. She passes it to Jane, whose grin only widens as she reads it. She bites her lip to hold back a giggle, passing the phone to its rightful owner.

_Darcy-Bot does not compute._

Lizzie cannot help her smile or the blush that creeps up from her neck to her cheeks. Her phone buzzes again: a second text.

_Me too._

Jane nudges Lizzie knowingly, and Lydia pretends to gag, dropping down to lie on the bed. She rolls over so she’s on her stomach, fist propped up beneath her chin.

“You should go back to Pemberley,” She says.

“I should be with my family,” Lizzie corrects. Then, as an afterthought: “Besides, I already figured everything out with Dr. Gardiner. And the way that I left was so… abrupt. I doubt I’ll be invited back.” Lydia reached across the bed and pinched her elbow.

“There are _other reasons_ to go back, dork.”

X

“You should go back to Netherfield with Bing.” Gigi hovers in his office doorway. Darcy regards her carefully, the glances back at his computer screen.

“Alright,” He says.

“Wow,” Gigi blinks in surprise, “I thought it’d be harder than that.”

“I think you should accompany us,” He suggests, sifting through papers, “It might be good for Lydia to have someone who… understands.”

“Really?” Her eyes light up. Suddenly, he’s reminded of Gigi as a child on Christmas or her birthday, the first time she rode a bike without training wheels, the day she got her license, the morning she got her first college acceptance letter. Through it all, she has never lost her joy.

“We leave in an hour.”

“Excellent,” She says, and before she turns to go, she flounces over to her brother and plants a kiss on his cheek.

X

“Oh, _Liz-zie!_ ” Lydia shouts up the stairs, “Jane and I made something for yo-ou!”

“What? Lydia!” Jane’s eyes widen, “I thought you said she asked us to!”

“Oh, don’t even worry about it,” Lydia waves her off with a wink and turns back to the stairs, “Lizzie! Come _on!_ ”

“I’m coming, I’m coming!” She shouts. Soon, she is at the bottom of the stairs. “What is it?”

“Close your eyes,” Lydia orders, as she steers Lizzie to the living room, forcing her onto the couch. She feels the tickle of fabric and cool metal against her neck. “On the count of three, open up. One…two…three!”

When Lizzie opens her eyes, Jane and Lydia are wearing them, too: bowtie necklaces. At first, Lizzie doesn’t respond, and Jane scrambles to apologize.

“Lydia told me you asked us to do this; I didn’t know you didn’t know!”

“Oh please,” Lydia rolls her eyes, “It’s hilarious and you know it.”

Lizzie reaches up and runs her fingers along the silk of the bowtie and smiles.

“It _is_ pretty funny,” She says, laughter bubbling at her lips, “I love it. Where did you find these?”

“Jane made them,” Lydia beams at her eldest sister, “ _obvs_.”

Soon, the three of them are laughing and Lizzie can’t begin to explain how good it feels to just _laugh_ like this with her sisters again. Then Lydia’s reaching for the costume theatre bag and Jane is joking about starting a whole bowtie necklace franchise and none of them hear the doorbell ring (once, twice, three times) or realize that they aren’t alone in the living room until Darcy clears his throat.

“Bing.” Jane’s voice is barely above a whisper, eyes wide with surprise. Lizzie and Lydia straighten up behind her, nervous and embarrassed.

“Hi Jane,” He smiles uneasily and offers a gift bag, “I brought you snickerdoodles.”

“I think you should go,” She tells him, and the whole room shifts. Lizzie wracks her brain, trying to recall if Jane Bennet, perfectly pleasant in every way, has ever cast someone out of their house before.  Bing holds her gaze, searching, but Jane doesn’t back down.

“Okay,” He says. He sets the cookies down on the coffee table on his way out. She watches him go the whole way: when he closes the door behind him, she watches from the window. He is halfway across the lawn when she starts after him.

The rest of them only look on long enough to see him turn to her on the lawn, to see Jane tell him something, to watch them walk down the road together, disappearing from their sight lines.

It isn’t until Gigi elbows Darcy stiffly in the back that the silence is finally broken.

“Lizzie,” he says. “You’re wearing a bowtie.”

Her hand flies to her neck in horror, and she yanks the chain over her head.

“I wasn’t making fun of you,” She says quickly. “It wasn’t – like that.”

“I like it,” Gigi grins wickedly, “Bowties suit you, Lizzie.” She catches Lydia’s eye and her grin widens. “Hi! I’m Gigi. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

“Hi,” Lydia replies, suddenly shyer than Lizzie ever remembers her being.

“Can we talk?” Darcy asks, looking pointedly at Lizzie.

“Yes,” She nods, “of course. Let me just – I just need to put on shoes.”

“Of course.” He follows her into the hall. Gigi looks to Lydia and smiles warmly.

“So!” She says, “Lizzie tells me you’re a champion sock slider.”

“Best in California,” Lydia nods warily.

“I’m pretty adept at sock sliding myself,” Gigi slips off her shoes, “care to defend your title?”

X

“So how’s everything at Pemberley?” Lizzie asks. They’re sitting on the porch swing, and she is suddenly hyper-aware of their proximity to each other. It wasn’t this hard before, she thinks.

“I didn’t come here to talk about that.” He’s direct, but the words aren’t harsh. He shifts his body so he’s looking right at her, and her heart starts to pound again. “I feel that I’ve been remiss. Before you left –”

“I kissed you,” She finishes his sentence, “and you didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t give me much of a chance to,” He reminds her, and there is nothing Lizzie can say to dispute that, so she doesn’t try. “I felt it was important to give you your space after that. You were in an extremely emotionally compromising situation and were perhaps acting without thinking, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. Since the incident, we’ve spent a considerable amount of time communicating, which leads me to believe that you _weren’t_ emotionally compromised, but rather were acting quite deliberately. In which case, I feel I must tell you that my feelings for you have not changed. If yours haven’t either, I–”

“I wasn’t emotionally compromised,” She says. Her voice is quieter than Darcy’s ever known it to be, and he has to lean in slightly to hear her. “I couldn’t leave Pemberley without you knowing how I felt. I didn’t know how else to say it.”

“Your feelings –”

“Have changed,” her heart is pounding in her ears now, “yes. Considerably.”

“Then I must tell you one more thing.”

“If it’s about Lydia’s video –” Lizzie starts, just as Darcy confesses; “It’s about Lydia’s video.”

He pulls back in surprise and furrows his brow.

“She told you?” He guesses.  

“She didn’t really have to,” Lizzie shrugs, “She’s not a good liar and Gigi isn’t exactly subtle. Besides, there weren’t that many possibilities. I knew that Wickham’s sense of human decency wasn’t at the root of it, no matter what my mom wanted to believe.” She reaches out and places her hand on top of his. His fingers twitched at her touch, as she slipped hers between, intertwining them.

“You could’ve told me, you know.”

“I didn’t want –” He clears his throat. “If your feelings regarding me were to change, I wanted them to change of your own accord. Not because you felt obliged to. The last thing I wanted was for you or your family to feel indebted to me.”

She isn’t quite sure what to say to that, so she settles for this:

“That was a really wonderful thing you did for my sister, William.”

He turns to look at her in a way that, six months ago, might have unnerved her. It’s the kind of look that she would have consulted Charlotte about, that she would’ve written and performed costume theatre about, that would’ve sent her into a tailspin. It still sends her into a tailspin, she thinks, the way that it makes her heart leap into her throat and her stomach explode into a frenzy of butterflies.

“Would kissing you be an appropriate response to that sentiment?”

A smile lights her whole face, laughter escaping her lips.

“Why, Mr. Darcy,” Her eyes wrinkle with a grin that reaches her ears, “I’d be insulted if you responded any other way.”

So he does.

**Author's Note:**

> aforementioned bowtie necklaces can be seen here (aren't they adorable/incredible/crazy cool?): http://planb.annaevers.com/en/diy-collar-corbatin/ 
> 
> the title is a line from the cure song "cut here".
> 
> here's a delightful LBD fanmix i made: http://8tracks.com/billieshears/decent-enough


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